Category Archives: Los Angeles

What Homeless Problem? Leaders Scapegoat the Poor Instead of Tackling Development’s Filth

05 Friday Nov 2021

Posted by in Homeless, Los Angeles, Poetic Blog, Political, Politics

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Homeless2

-by Bill Watkins 10/27/2021

The problems of “Los Angeles” run deep, as deep as the rivers and lakes that used to bless this land before the great European conquest.

It used to be a land of many names to many tribes.  By any name naturally sweet, especially when compared to what we industrialists have done to it.  Litter spews out of sidewalks’ cracks, asphalt trying to make all accessible to earth-burning cars, elected leaders in suits meeting in grand halls making and spending money…

Then we are appalled “at that bum on the corner.”  At all the trash, the smell of urine, RV’s mounting months of rentless stays, providing homes to some and eyesores to others – those enclosed in business attire at stationary houses, nine to five jobs shaking their heads…  “Let’s have a meeting about the homeless!!” they hurl, as the trash mounts.

Did anyone ever think we should just pick up the trash?  Daily?  And not just in gas-guzzling trucks, but on foot?  Los Angeles has forgotten how to walk!  LAPD, since the 1960’s, has even decided to police by helicopter!  Never mind the noise, the sound of war…  There they are because you forgot to lock your deified car, someone stole it, and now we add the second crime of noise pollution from above to stop the theft!

I call for a return to Otsungna.  Yaangna, or whichever the names were before the Spanish and their guns stole land and branded it angelic with their bibles.  We have failed.  We have desecrated.  We have polluted…  And now it’s the fault of poor people?  People who look to a blessed outdoor life?  Sleeping under the stars?

In this formerly peaceful, natural space the conquerors called Los Angeles I don’t see a homeless problem.  I see a filth problem, and lazy leaders getting rich in suits who haven’t the slightest idea how to get out of their SUV’s, put on some work clothes, go out on foot –

and solve it.

Otsungna

22 Thursday Aug 2019

Posted by in California History, History, Los Angeles, Native, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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Wild Roses2

I am not where I thought I was, a
deeper look… a willingness to open;
change rains down valleys of doubt
to shine in the upside down rhythm
that is not fully mine!

El Sereno is a Spanish word.  Bairdstown
sort of English, but before that was
the indigenous Otsungna—the place of
roses, making white guests think of
names not fully mine!

I was here because I was born of woman
in nearby Pasadena, Chippewa for “Crown
of the Valley,” and before all the names—
the land was how it was, and it was as true,
forming, being in time!

The Jewish God created, the native Great
Spirit too; Jesus was a wonderful son
and teacher preaching poverty to the
masses, making pain a blessing?  Wide is
destruction’s path line!

Kanekuk said the land belongs to the Great
Spirit, be it man or woman, woman or man,
no matter the words—a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet, Borgesian fictions
dancing to beats and rhyme!

Honoring our father and our mother, we
can live a long while in the land given,
the Jewish God on the page, Niagara
and other feats of nature defining the
Eternal art that shines!

And yet we litter El Sereno, which litters
Bairdstown, which littered Otsungna—which
tried to live as one with nature, the Great
Spirit, Creation.  Sometimes when you win,
you lose, it’s a shame!

The hope is in staying awake, remembering
the beginning, planting and replanting
first plants, calling on the first names,
asking native nations to return here and
help us grow our lives!

Standards, 911 Los Angeles!

22 Sunday Jul 2018

Posted by in Law, Los Angeles, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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I have seen a few things, the
light bright from a Palm Desert
recovery facility.

Allow me to help you see!

Gangs are unnecessary.  To
have them in our city a choice.

They can be budgeted out, if
city leaders would reduce their
own inflated salaries, cut out
the fat of things we do not need.

Illegal fireworks, the booms, could
be budgeted out!

Litter picked up, law enforced,
pedestrian workers employed,
tents removed from sidewalks,
an encampment established
outside city limits with county help.

Sober up, L.A.!!

Really think, use the brain that
will say it’s dumb to drink
flammable liquids!!

Sober up, L.A.!!

Take off your ridiculous monkey
suits, city leaders, and join the
lowly, me and others to clean
this mess up for good!!

Sober up, L.A.!!

Be the first major U.S. city to
raise its standards to eliminate
even a single cigarette butt from
our sidewalk cracks.

Build better sidewalks, have non-
lethally armed security to secure
them, Engage the community!

Let’s be there, at our schools
with law instruction!

Let’s be at our recreation centers
and get to know our children!

Allow them to vote!!!

Anyone should be allowed, who
wants to help our country!

Perfectionism is a curse!

The old way needs changing, unless
you love the trash and bombs
on the fourth so much.

I do not.

I like peace, and obeying the law.

Take off your ties and suits, put
on some work clothes and join
me in a vision of something better.

Garner a day when police answer
the call, because
they are budgeted to win.

Stop the flow begun with self-
seeking campaigns, appeal to
God or Higher Power, take less,

and allow the city to thrive
the more.

Concrete River

11 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by in Los Angeles, Native, Native America, Native American, Nature, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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We fail to see what the Indian saw;
goalposts moved, the feeling is raw.

God gave all peoples land, but fate
brought white Euros away from theirs,

Hope was in the “New World,” except
that for its old inhabitants, a grave

challenge emerged from the golden
ships on the Eastern horizon, the

Atlantic bringing bibles, armor, guns,
horses and a love for gold not seen

by the decorated native soldier, the
adorned native explorer—who roamed

a wild land with ease, the world a
welcome mat to sleep upon, gather

and hunt.  A river was sacred, a waterfall
the same; trees, even rocks worshipped

as gifts from the Great Spirit.  Instead
of human art, a reveling of God’s art

was the native way; instead of a written
history or spirituality, there was one

passed down with poignant, well-placed
words and teachings, songs and music,

Ones about the “L.A. River” before it
was called that I’m sure existed.

It would be full and running wild at
times, dry and trickling at others,

through trees, brush and local wildlife—
including bands of Indian tribes,
grateful for the flow.

Civilization is a double-edged mess.
I think I like it.  I hate it.  I’m sad
about it, but sure like the plumbing!

***

What of the river?

Concreted over now, we took away
its beauty.

A crime by any view, there is no
possible way to support killing
it and doing God’s will, we stopped

the wild flow, the thrill.

We placed our destructive flag on
its top, moved wildlife off their spot,

Came with horses, buggies, then
cars and our own urinated rain,

the plumbing’s good, but we are
not—

God’s Earth is full of things still
pristine, and those like the L.A.
River—

That dies every day civilization soars,
roars and choppers rot.

I dream of a day when time
forgot.

To Los Angeles:

24 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by in Los Angeles, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Politics

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50/50 with a Fringe on Top

***

Welcome to Betty Ford.

We must recover, many of us know this,
but have we admitted yet that we have
a problem?

L.A. is not the greatest city in the world—

But it could be.

It could lead like the LAPD in Lethal
Force Policy—Matt Johnson and the
commission talking De-escalation,
Obama taking notice, the nation
watches and seeks good Ideas.

Ideas!!!

Something whose creation money cannot
buy.

Private Campaign Spending should be
now and forever outlawed, right
next to hiring a pedestrian cleaning
force—call them “Street Angels”—

We must clean this city from the bottom
to the top, let’s trim the budget of
fat—like the bloated salaries of political
hacks.

This is supposed to be a humble service job;
how much did John Adams spend to
become President?  I think it was $0.00
because he was a lawyer with land in
the private sector—

I recommend to our leaders that if it
is riches you want… Invent something.

Get out in the private sector with your
skills, which should be protected by
the public sector… and make a ton of
money.

City Council?  The Mayor?  A Police Chief?

A Supervisor for the County? Where wages
start at 200,000 dollars a year?

And we wonder why graffiti plagues us—
it’s a revolution, a rebellion saying “Screw
you, suits!  You have forgotten us, are not
protecting us, are not maintaining our
roads, sidewalks and communities so we
formed a gang to secure ourselves.”

“Gangs” could be budgeted out of existence.

Maybe fund Animal Services to enforce
every code instead of running a public zoo.

Enforce every code.

Don’t play with illegal fireworks—

eradicate it.  Budget them away, put our
heads together, take a walk from border
to border in your district and note how
many clogged storm drains you see.

People tell me sometimes, watching me
clean, that the problems are too vast
and deep—and what you clean today
just comes back tomorrow!

So come back tomorrow and clean again.

God bless us to rethink our bloated
salaries, “benefits” which often include
non-emergency “health” care which government
should never grapple.

“What is health?” is answered differently
by every person, like choosing a religious
faith—in fact my health program is my religious
faith (Christian Science) and by the First
Amendment, Congress shall pass no law on it.

Wake up!

Lazarus, take up thy bed and follow me
into the fixable gutters and graffiti of L.A.,
the bombs exploding from June through August,
the rebellion—folks without a voice, disenchanted
with you, voter turnout poor, as we shake
our heads at the mailbox—

Filling up with the Trash that is private
campaign spending.

“Vote for me!” on an expensive post card.

“Don’t Vote For Her!” in despicable color
and glossy font.

While our sidewalks crumble, the Homeless
waiting not on “housing” as much as
a purpose.

Give us day labor posts, a morning lineup
for a job to clean our city for eighty-five
dollars a day.

I’ll be first in that line, let’s fan out, out
of our offices and suits, but if addicted to
them, give me a bib and a broom, pay me

and watch this place start to shine.

Our budget should be fifty percent
safety, fifty percent infrastructure.

Anything not related to those two things
should, like fringe stuck in a storm drain—

be taken out

Good Bye Los Angeles!!

25 Tuesday Apr 2017

Posted by in Blogs, Los Angeles, Native American, Politics, Tongva Nation

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Some Thoughts Before I Go:

-by Bill Watkins 4/24/2017

***

God, give me the wisdom
to say something of value.

Amen.

***

Greetings, “Los Angeles,”—a Tongva/Gabrielino land.

We cannot always look forward, or up at the next skyscraper or project.

It is wise to look back, to make sure our past is okay.  Mended and tightly made!

***

Wherever native peoples are buried, we must have recognition, designated posts and plaques, remembrance of the first caretakers of God’s land.

We should now and forever, institute SPACE on our panels and councils FOR NATIVE PEOPLE TO JOIN AND PARTICIPATE.

For the Los Angeles City Council, for instance, TWO seats should be made available for First Peoples to fill.

Those seats would not be voted in by the public, but by Native Councils—like the Los Angeles Native American Indian Commission.

The County Board of Supervisors should reserve at least one seat for this purpose…

***

We have inherited other evils besides native neglect, like the sin of slavery committed so many years ago.  No matter how much time passes, a sin will fester and cause problems until it is examined and amends are made.

Every “American” should reflect on what is the proper reparation to offer African-descended people, who can claim descendancy to people brought here in chains against their will.

Emotional debts must be paid, just as financial ones—if we are to be a thriving community.

***

With a proper council that includes native people, and with a mind to repair past sins to African Americans and anyone else wronged by government policies:

It would be time to clean up the city and county of Los Angeles, and to budget the enforcement of every law and code on the books.

Right now, it is obvious that many codes are not enforced.

And aiming especially at Education:

NONE OF THE CODE IS CURRENTLY TAUGHT IN SCHOOL.

We need to Teach Law, if we hope that the community will Obey and Respect the Law.  (https://travelingpoet.net/first-step-education/)

I have personally taught law and law code to Children ages five and up!!  It can be done. It must be done.  (https://travelingpoet.net/2014/04/01/law-dragons/)

Here is the little book I have begun for this purpose:  Law For Kids

***

We could do so much more.  We could be so much more.

We could have clean streets and sidewalks, metros, metro platforms.

And Clean is Safe!  Ask my dad, John F. Watkins of forty-plus years in the Steel Business.

We could expand City Personnel to include job offers to homeless and formerly homeless—BEGIN A PEDESTRIAN STREET CLEANING CORPS!!!!

https://travelingpoet.net/clean-l-a/

***

Mayor visits to Dodger games, spouting about sports and Funding PARTIES must be curbed in favor of mass Clean-up efforts, Law education, noise reduction, and a Budget overhaul of both the City and County resources.

Let us move away from controversial, unproven, non-universally accepted Health and Science concepts.

To push non-emergency western “health care” on citizens should be outlawed in the same way that the Church and State are separated.

“Health” is defined by all differently.  (https://travelingpoet.net/2017/03/23/what-is-health/)

The same could be said for “religion.”

So, Government:  Stay out of it.

Build us roads, infrastructure.

Keep trying at Security, and study real defense/martial arts—keep moving away from lethal weapons.

Killing is Never Defense.  (https://travelingpoet.net/2016/03/07/the-old-argument/)

***Adopt a fifty-fifty budget (City of Los Angeles — Budget Proposal)—keep it simple!!!  May we stop playing God with Government funds, pray to one, fix some roads and PAY OUR DEBTS!!!

Start and end with prayer.  With supplication to the Great Spirit, to “God,” to a Higher Power than us; consult with native peoples, and invoke wisdom.

***

Fireworks and Noise:

Please, God, help us Put the Foot Down on Illegal fireworks.

Help us Re-Think Helicopters and Sirens.

The loud, metal, brutal force of industry kills the healing peace of our land in its natural state.

Help us all to see the poor philosophy of “helping” a household or individual with a robbery by KILLING THE PEACE IN A TEN MILE RADIUS with loud airplanes and sirens.

Our authorities are supposed to Keep the Peace, not destroy it.

Shhh!  God is working a masterpiece.  (https://travelingpoet.net/2014/01/22/chess/)

Bad things happen.  Do not make bad things worse by making a bunch of noise.

I challenge emergency services to take a walk in the woods and reflect on Real Health.  No person should consume flammable liquids.  Start your safety program there, by Never “drinking” alcoholic beverages.

Most emergencies come from carelessness and diabolical drinks/drugs.

Abstain and join me in more quiet, respectful living!

***

(Another reason to be wary of Dodger Games, Mr. Mayor, and Laker support.  Sports are full of gambling (money+emotions), Alcohol rampant.)

Focus on our roads, sidewalks, adopt a more humble face, and one not so easy to sell himself and Los Angeles:

Especially when this place is so dirty.

Trash litters in every direction, from gutters to sidewalks, to our Metro services—often the first look we give tourists.

Yesterday, I could hardly see the pay screen at a Gold Line pay kiosk, through the dirt, grime and graffiti.

We need an adequate PLAN, just like with fireworks, to stamp out that problem.

We need to expand City Personnel, START HIRING EVEN DAY WORKERS!!

“We need bodies,” I have heard the Animal Services Department utter.

Stop looking for perfection, favorites, or someone for a thirty year tenure and GET PEOPLE OUT WORKING TODAY!!!!!!

The Homeless doesn’t have to be a problem.

They are a Work Force, waiting to be tapped!!!!

***

So decide. Decide, like I did, when I gave up DRINKING a flammable, volatile chemical “sold” as DRINK fifteen years ago.

Start caring about yourself and others, as I did, when I took that step toward health. (https://travelingpoet.net/2014/03/14/you-learn-to-care/)

Read and study the Native way, read Kent Nerburn’s great collection, a cheap buy online that will change your life:

https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=the+wisdom+of+native+americans

***

I am off to Livingston, Montana—Crow Country.

Please keep a prayer and thought for me, and when you do, let Tongva Nation help you in Los Angeles.

Let the Gabrielino Tribe rise to help you protect this land.

Hoist up the L.A. Native American Indian Commission, and may it vote into reserved spots key players in determining wise courses of action.

God is real.  Call it by any name you choose.  That is not religion, which is organized.  Spirituality, your walk with God—is yours.  Bring its rewards, wisdom and charity, into your council chambers and bring God, Spirit, and Nature back to this community.

Quiet our sirens and choppers, and hear the parrots, escaped from that South Pasadena store fire so long ago.

Smile.

After we clean up, take in a ballgame, but not until we clean up, and enforce every code on our books.

Dissolve the heliport in favor of a great foot patrol outpost.

A non-lethal, giving one.

—Love and Highest Peace
Forever.

Bill “Naked Horse” Watkins
Honorary Tongva
http://www.travelingpoet.net

Firework Worksheet

Health and Safety Code Amendment — Asset Forfeiture Applied to Illegal Fireworks — Watkins Proposal 2016

Consumer Fireworks Ban — Watkins Proposal for Gomez — CA — 2016

You Learn to Care

Dear LAFD Commission

Fireworks Petition1

Fireworks -- Margaret Note

Stray Dogs, Helicopters and Trash

08 Thursday Dec 2016

Posted by in Los Angeles, Native America, Poetry

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norwich-terrier

Stand down, army, stand down.

You are worse than the British over
the colonies years ago.

You are loud, helicopters—and I can think
of no benefits to you except for maybe
that kind that dowse forest
fires with water.

The modern American city is
a modern American blasphemy.

Then call the police station to complain
about their loud helicopters and hear
the voice of stupidity talking back,
trying to justify the violent, loud
way of life while bad budgets
have stray dogs pooping in our storm
drains.

God, we should have learned from the
Native American people, listened to them.

Respected them.

Enough to leave when we were no longer
welcome.

Back to our lands of origin.

The lands that God gave us; the ones
in which we buried our fathers and
mothers.

Concrete, metal and trash litter the ground
that used to connect us with Mother
Earth.

We have cut ourselves off from Love
itself, then wonder why the homeless
congregate in urine-filled gutters,
homeless dogs, too. This one from
England, this one from Australia—

Even the Dogs are lost in a country not
their own!!!

Disenchanted. Disillusioned, but so often
blissfully ignorant we immigrants squat on
Indian land.

We laugh the empty thrill of victory
that defeats ourselves with every cigarette
obtained, smoked and littered.

We laugh the high shrill shriek of killing
ourselves with alcohol and drugs,
because we know no better than we were
shown, and Dad hadn’t a clue.

“We are searching for a suspect in your
area.”

Officer: search for yourself, for YOU—not
they, are the Criminal making noise beyond
reason into the night over this supposed
City of Angels.

Be quiet, and change your life.

Find your roots, go there.

Indians: come back

Pasadena Seasons

29 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by in California, Home, Los Angeles, Nature, Pasadena, Poems, Poetry, Socal

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As we skip winter this year, I reflect
back on past seasons, and generally
how they work here in Pasadena, CA.

Chinese magnolias bloom in January
or February, depending on the sun, this
year January.

Jacarandas in May, Jasmine in May or
June, and other plants that smell good
the same.

Agapanthus enjoy May and June as well,
again unless the sun is stubborn not
allowing for winter.

Summers are hot. So much so that I
do believe we have seasons here. You
better believe we know when Fall has
arrived to spell us, give us a break.

That’s the big transition to me, brutal heat
to pleasant, we are challenged enough by
weather that when added with earthquakes
we try to rival Florida’s hurricanes and Midwest
and eastern cold.

Minnesota laughs at my seasons, but I’ll
say: Einstein was right, it’s all relative, and
when you live where I live you count them out
like anywhere else, 1, 2, 3, 4.

Just because we don’t much freeze in winter
doesn’t mean we appreciate the Spring
any less, or in changing from shorts to pants
in October look east to smile and keep score.